


Hard to Love

by Fernon



Series: Not Broken; Just Bent [5]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Christmas, Christmas Party, M/M, but its okay, wonwoo does dumb shit, wonwoo finds out he has a fear of commitment, wonwoo messes up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:55:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21973948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fernon/pseuds/Fernon
Summary: Wonwoo messed up. Big time.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu
Series: Not Broken; Just Bent [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1487822
Comments: 10
Kudos: 164





	Hard to Love

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the next part, I meant to get it up before Christmas but here you go. I have big plans for the next part, so it might be a little while.

_ ‘Wonwoo, why are you avoiding me?’ _

Wonwoo stares at his phone screen. Shit. Shit shit. It’s been three goddamn weeks of speaking zero words to Mingyu and feeling his chest ache, but this hurts more. He had, indeed, been avoiding Mingyu. Wonwoo’s fingers hover above the keyboard. 

‘ _ It’s been busy at work. I’m sorry I fell off the face of the earth. It’s just been hard.’ _

_ ‘You could have told me. I was worried.’ _

Wonwoo’s heart drops through his gut. Guilt overwhelms his body. Shit, shit, shit, shit. He knew he was bad for what he did but this… this made it worse, he thinks. His phone buzzes again. 

_ ‘I thought we were friends? I don’t mind if you talk to me about these things, you know. Work things. The gang missed you, you should come to game night this Friday.’ _

Wonwoo stares. He wants to go, he does, so badly. But maybe he shouldn’t. That’s not enough, not enough to make up for what he did. ‘ _ I’ll try, depends on work. Especially since I’m just getting back from Japan, and holidays are next week. Family time, and stuff.’ _

Wonwoo looks around. Where the hell is Seokmin? He’d offered to pick Wonwoo up. Wonwoo’s phone buzzes again.

_ ‘Right, I forgot you’re in Japan a lot. And don’t worry if you can’t make it Friday, I get it. I leave town the next day to go see my mom and sister.’ _

_ ‘Yeah, I’ll let you know, I promise. Thanks for the invitation, Gyu. And I’m sorry for ghosting. Again.’ _

Wonwoo looks up when he hears his name. There’s Seokmin, waving at him at the end of the corridor. Wonwoo smiles slightly and heads in his direction. Wonwoo has been spectacularly wonderful at avoiding all his idiot friends, too. Seokmin doesn’t seem to have any qualms about the past incident, however, so that’s nice. 

Wonwoo can’t make it Friday. He’s overloaded on paperwork dealing with the launch for the looming new year, not to mention the ridiculous office Christmas party is scheduled for that evening, and Wonwoo feels like a fucking dick. 

_ ‘Really can’t make it. The launch for next years new product has me swamped with finalizations, and there’s a dumb ass Christmas party for the company tonight that I’m staying for one drink of and then going home to do more work. I’m so sorry, Gyu.’ _ Wonwoo hits send and then sighs, staring at the mountains of work and the inbox full of emails in his computer. Seungkwan stands quietly off to the side, waiting for further instruction.

“If you can get a jump start on the end of the year filing that would be great, Seungkwan. The usual stuff, filing reports into their respectful folders for each project and marketing season. Thank you.” Wonwoo says, opening an email of a draft for the latest photo options and ideas. Wonwoo stares at it, feeling utterly uninspired. Normally he has words of feedback, makes his own changes, hell- he even has his own designs, sometimes. But this launch had sprung onto him like a predator to prey- it was killing him. 

Wonwoo turns instead to the paperwork on his desk. Approving billboard dates, approving commercial runnings, approving internet ads. Wonwoo doesn’t want to approve a goddamn thing, he doesn’t want to even be in this room, where he’ll inevitably be stuck for the next 8+ hours as he works overtime until the party. Wonwoo can already feel the muscles in his back aching form this chair, and the first twinges of a headache. A wonderful Friday indeed. 

Wonwoo doesn’t even take a lunch break for the day, working straight through paperwork and attempting to design a simple paper ad for this new laptop just was not coming together. At least he had until March before the actual launch, but that would come just as quick as the end of the year, not to mention the redesign of the marketing campaign on their current product for the new year. The holiday ad designs had been hellish too, starting those back in October. 

But Wonwoo pushed through all the paperwork, and through all the stupid emails, and he was left with only a slim stack for Monday, and an ad design. Wonwoo sighs, leaning back in his chair. And it’s only 6:30. He has time to make that cup of instant noodles he brought for lunch in between now and the stupid office party downstairs. Wonwoo stands and stretches, grabbing his phone and the instant noodles from his work bag, and shuffles to the break room on the floor and heating them up. 

_ ‘It’s okay. I’m leaving town for the week, so I probably won’t see you until after the holidays. Have a nice one.’ _

Wonwoo sighs, seeing Mingyu’s message. He’s the worst. He’s literally the worst. Wonwoo attempts to type something out, another apology? What good would that do, Mingyu clearly doesn’t want to hear it. Wonwoo instead tucks his phone back into his pocket, ignoring the rest of the messages from Soonyoung and Jihoon, and one from his brother, and takes his cup of noodles from the microwave. He sits in one of the chairs and scarfs them down, instead listening to some podcast that Seokmin had recommended to him.

He has no desire to go to this party. Truthfully, he’d rather be at home, tucked into his pajamas, a Lord of the Rings marathon, and a bottle of something strong.

But mostly he’d rather be with Mingyu. Even if it was just at a game night with his friends, he wants to be with Mingyu. Tucked into his side on the couch while they watch movies, laying in bed with him, cooking some wonderful meal that Mingyu wanted to try out… Wonwoo wanted Mingyu, and only Mingyu. Wonwoo sighs and cleans up his instant noodle cup, grabs his work bag, and heads all the way downstairs to the now empty parking garage where his vehicle has sat all day. He tosses the bag into the passenger’s seat, grabs his keys and wallet out of it, and heads back up to the lobby area, where the party was to begin.

The whole first floor of the building (aside from the offices) had been decorated in gaudy Christmas decor, and half the people from work were there- including the big bosses, Seungcheol himself standing there beside his father, and Jeonghan, making those stupid lovey eyes of his at Seungcheol. Wonwoo feels oddly out of place, the only people he typically talks to are a few higher ups in the marketing department, and Seungkwan. Standing with the important people seems just wrong, even if he is head of marketing for the entire company and the Japan branch. 

Seungkwan seems to have found him, though, bouncing over happily. 

“Wonwoo! Hey, I just- I wanted to say thank you, for that raise a few months ago. I know that was your doing…” Seungkwan smiles at him, a lovely rose color dusting his cheeks. 

“Ah, of course, Seungkwan. You deserve it, you’re the best assistant I could ask for.” Wonwoo smiles, and Seungkwan positively  _ beams. _

“It helped me to save enough to make it back to Jeju this Christmas! It’ll be the first Christmas I’ve been able to fly home for in a couple of years. So really, thank you…” 

“I’m really glad to hear that, Seungkwan.” Wonwoo smiles softly, his heart a little warm at the thought that he did something good. Especially after all this… Mingyu nonsense. 

“Have you tried the cookies over there? They’re  _ so _ good!” Seungkwan begins to ramble, talking about everything under the sun, but Wonwoo doesn’t mind. Seungkwan is a good person to spend time with, perhaps. He’s got Wonwoo laughing, at least, and Wonwoo hasn’t had much to laugh about, lately. And he’s a genuinely nice human being. He’s like a little ray of sunshine in Wonwoo’s life, and Wonwoo doesn’t hate it. “...seriously though, go try a cookie! I’ll let you go, sorry for talking your ear off!”

“I’ll make sure I try one. And I don’t mind, Seungkwan. I don’t have anyone else to talk to anyways.” Wonwoo chuckles a little, but waves as Seungkwan hurries off to talk to some other people, and then goes over to get a little frosted sugar cookie, shaped like a star and decorated beautifully. He picks it up and takes a bite of it, turning to face the crowd once again, only to see Jeonghan standing before him. 

“A cookie?” Jeonghan raises an eyebrow and smirks, and Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “Come sit with me and Seungcheol.”

Wonwoo snorts. “Why so I can sit there while you hopelessly flirt with him?” Wonwoo retorts, a little smirk on his own lips as he watches the tips of Jeonghan’s ears turn pink, which he masks with a lazy eye roll.

“Oh hush. Don’t pretend you wouldn’t hit that.” Jeonghan mumbles. 

“If he wasn’t my boss and was just some guy in a bar, maybe. But I know Seungcheol. And I most certainly am not interested.” Wonwoo laughs a little. 

“Oh? You have someone you’re seeing, Wonu? I thought you were looking a little… glowy there, for a while.” Jeonghan says, guiding Wonwoo to where Seungcheol is sitting. His dad is gone, off talking to the older men in the company, Wonwoo would presume. Wonwoo sighs. 

“For a while?”

“Are you asking me what I meant? Because I mean the last month I’ve seen you, you look like you’ve been raised from the dead.” Jeonghan plops into the chair beside Seungcheol. 

“Wonwoo, how’s the design for the new launch coming?” Seungcheol ask. Wonwoo groans. 

“Nooo, let’s not talk about work!” Wonwoo whines, and Seungcheol laughs. 

“I’m kidding. Well, half kidding. Seriously, it needs to get done. Have you had a drink?” Seungcheol beckons a server over. 

“No, I haven’t, and I’m only having one. I need to drive home later.” Wonwoo says, and the waiter sets a glass of red wine before him. Red wine makes Mingyu get all sexy and sentimental. Wonwoo sighs and picks the glass up, taking a swig of it. 

“So I was just asking Jeonghan about whatever man he has hidden at home because he was a goddamn machine until a month ago.” Jeonghan says, settling into his chair, leaning a little towards Seungcheol. Seungcheol’s eyebrows shoot up on his forehead. 

“A guy, Wonu?” Seungcheol feigns shock. “Yes, I suppose that was the ‘I’m having great sex every night’ glow around him.”

“I don’t want to talk about him, Wonwoo sighs. 

“Yes you do. What’s his name?” Jeonghan smirks. 

“Mingyu. He’s a bartender, and I fucked it up with him, because I’m an ass. Are you happy?” Wonwoo looks at them unamused. 

“How did you mess it up?” Seungcheol raises an eyebrow. 

“Because my friends wanted me to invite him as a plus one to their wedding.”

Jeonghan stares at him. “Okay, and?”

“And I have a crippling fear of commitment because I’ve been engaged once and left at the altar for some high school sweetheart back in China. And I’m sure Mingyu doesn’t want to deal with my emotional baggage anyways, we were just…” There it is again, that fucking label. Mingyu was beyond a hook up, Mingyu was a friend, whether Wonwoo wants to admit it or not. “We had an arrangement.” Wonwoo finishes instead. 

“Friends with benefits?” Seungcheol asks, though it’s not much of a question. 

“I- It wasn’t supposed to be, really. It was a hook up for a little while, and then- somewhere along the line, I guess we became… friends? It just- it wasn’t strictly friends-shit though… It was weird, like dates and shit but neither of us ever called them that.”

“And then?” Jeonghan asks. 

“And then I panicked when they said I should commit to him. And I ghosted him. For a fucking month.”

Jeonghan groans. “Wonwoo what the fuck, dude.”

“Yeah, I’m with Jeonghan on this one. Wonwoo, what the fuck, dude.” Seungcheol nods and takes a drink. Wonwoo sighs. 

“Yeah, I know. And it was weird, cause I let him stay over a lot and he wanted to cook for me, because I suck at life and I live off of instant ramen.”

“Wonwoo, you are the literal stupidest smart man I know.” Jeonghan states. “First of all, you should have put a ring on it right then and there when he said he wanted to  _ cook for you _ . That’s like. That’s some shit that you can’t even get a real actual husband to do for you. Second of all,  _ he can cook and you almost burnt the house down _ . You will probably die if all you ever eat is instant ramen. Third of all, the sex was good enough for you to come back for, so that’s something in itself.”

“Okay I feel like all of those things were slightly sexist and or highly objective.” Wonwoo begins. 

“Is he hot?” Jeonghan asks. Wonwoo blinks. 

“I mean I think he is, but we all know your taste in men here, so-”

“We do?” Seungcheol asks. 

“Apparently everyone except you, sweetie.” Jeonghan states, his tone saccharine sweet. “Show us a picture of this dreamboat.” 

“If I have one. I don’t randomly take photos of him, that’s fucking weird.” Wonwoo pulls up his camera roll, trying to remember if he deleted all those stupid selfies Mingyu took while he was sleeping a couple of weeks before Wonwoo ghosted him. Like a dickhead.

Wonwoo stares at the twenty photos of Mingyu making stupid faces and sticking his tongue out at the camera, his hair all toussled and his cheeks still rosy with sleep. Wonwoo remembers that night. That was one of those nights where they didn’t end up doing anything remotely sexy and instead just drank a little too much and cried over a dog movie. 

Wonwoo’s heart lurches in his chest. 

He decides to look instead, through their messages. That’s a whole lot of gray text bubbles from Mingyu, for a little while. Wonwoo’s gut twists in disgust at his own actions. How the fuck could he just flat out  _ ignore _ Mingyu like that? Mingyu just wanted to make sure he was okay, after the first couple of days. But Wonwoo proceeded to ignore him. Like a fucking dickhead.

Wonwoo scrolls up far enough to the night that Wonwoo had taken him out to see Seokmin’s musical, and sets the phone before Jeonghan and Seungcheol. They both peer at it, Seungcheol’s eyebrows shooting upwards, and Jeonghan’s jaw dropping. 

“What is he, a fucking model?!” Seungcheol asks. 

“Wonwoo you’re literally insane, if you won’t date him, then send him my way.” Jeonghan groans. “Shit, he’s hot.”

“Yeah, I know. I asked him once what he  _ couldn’t _ do, and he just told me he sucked at math and dancing.  _ Everyone sucks at those things! _ ” Wonwoo groans. 

“Make it right. I don’t know how, but make it right. He’s into you, Wonwoo, and clearly you’re hurting a little over it.” Seungcheol states. 

“I guess I do, I miss him.” Wonwoo mutters. 

“You said it yourself, you guys were friends. Ghosting a guy is fucked up, Wonwoo.”

“Yeah, I know. Especially after like… six? Ish? Months?” Wonwoo winces when he thinks about that number. “Fuck, I’m such a dickhead!” Wonwoo huffs. 

Jeonghan and Seungcheol just agree.

Wonwoo goes home that night, puts on pjs, takes out a bottle of something strong, and puts on Lord of the Rings. He suspects he’s at least four glasses of whiskey in, when he sends the text. 

‘ _ Come to Japan with me, Gyu.’ _

Wonwoo hears radio silence for the next week. Wonwoo goes home for Christmas, and sees his stupid brother and his wife, and his mom hugs him and coos at him, and his father grins at him and asks him about the company he works for. But all he can think about the entire time is Mingyu. 

What was Mingyu doing for Christmas? Was Mingyu really mad at Wonwoo? Wonwoo supposed he deserved it. After all, he had ghosted Mingyu for nearly a month and then blamed it on a business trip to Japan. How was Mingyu feeling? Why the fuck did Wonwoo care?

Wonwoo lays in his old bed, staring at his ceiling late into the night, unable to sleep. And he had a long trip home tomorrow too. He supposes he might be able to sleep on the train home, but he didn’t want to risk missing his stop. Wonwoo sighs, as thoughts of Mingyu race through his head. Bringing Mingyu home to meet his parents, spending holidays with Mingyu, exchanging little gifts with one another, snuggling by the gas fireplace in his apartment, sipping cocoa and watching movies, meeting Mingyu’s parents…

Shit, Wonwoo fucked up, and he fucked up bad. Of course Mingyu was pissed at him, Wonwoo was stupid as hell and emotionally constipated. He  _ ran from his fucking emotions. _ But they caught up, they always do. Wonwoo throws his blankets off and shuffles downstairs to the kitchen, and stares into the fridge at the leftover Christmas dinner, and then settling on some tea. He puts the kettle on the stove and turns it on, and sits at the island in the kitchen and flips through the home magazine sitting on the counter. 

He startles at the sound of someone padding into the kitchen, turning to see his mother, in her robe, with her glasses on, squinting at him. 

“What are you doing up? It’s nearly three,” she frowns, sitting opposite him.

“Couldn’t sleep. Too much on my mind.” Wonwoo says softly. 

“Making tea? I’ve got lavender, or chamomile. It’ll help you sleep.” She slips off her stool and shuffles to the stove, checking the kettle and then rummaging through the cupboards. 

“Either will be fine, thank you mom.” Wonwoo watches her get two mugs down from the cupboard next, before making her way back over to take her seat again. 

“What seems to be your trouble, dear?” 

Wonwoo stops pretending to leaf through the magazine and sets it aside. “Everything.”

“Everything?” She raises a brow.

“A boy,” Wonwoo sighs. She looks at him expectantly. Wonwoo takes a deep breath in. “We’ve been… sleeping together. It was supposed to just be a hook up, a one time thing, but- but we ran into each other again and did some, rather… well I’m not going to go into detail. And he’s met Soonyoung and Jihoon, and Seokmin and Chan now. And we sort of- we’ve gone on dates, but we haven’t called them dates, at least I never did, and we became- we became friends, as strange as that seems. We still slept together, though, and- and it was going so well, for almost six months.  _ Six,  _ mom. That’s- that’s more time than I’ve spent with anyone since- since-”

“Since Minghao,” his mother offers. Wonwoo nods. “I don’t see the problem, except maybe that you’re afraid.”

“I- I am afraid, mom. I’m  _ terrified _ , because- Mingyu is  _ the _ perfect guy. Like, mom, if you had met him 35 years ago, and he was straight, you would have married him on the spot. He cooks, and he cleans, and he’s so damn friendly, and he’s always got a smile for you, even if he’s not that happy, and he’s handsome- god he’s  _ so _ handsome- and he cares, no matter what, he always cares, and he’s hard working and smart, and- and I managed to mess it all up.” Wonwoo finishes, his voice quiet.

“And just how did you mess it all up?” 

“Things were going, and they were going well. We would have dinner together at least once a week, and we’d stay at one another’s houses, and we would go out, and I met all his friends and then…”

“And then what?”

“And then Soonyoung and Jihoon gave me a plus one,” Wonwoo sighs. “A plus one to their wedding, and I freaked. I said no. I refused the plus one. They so badly wanted me to bring Mingyu, they knew he made me happy, they all said I was happier than I had been in years. And so I stopped talking to Mingyu. For like, a month, and then I also went to Japan for work, and didn’t talk to him at all then. He tried texting me for like a week before he gave up, mom. I’m such an ass, oh god.” Wonwoo puts his head in his hands. 

His mother says nothing while he mopes, and gathers his next thoughts. “Then he texted me two weeks ago, asking me why I was  _ avoiding him.  _ I couldn’t very well tell him I was terrified! Then I texted him before Christmas. A week ago, I texted him, asking him to come to fucking Japan with me. And he hasn’t said anything, he hasn’t even read it.”

“It’s the holidays, I’m sure he’s just busy.” His mom assures. “But I agree with Soonyoung and Jihoon. You should invite him to the wedding. You should keep him around, too, with how you’ve waxed poetic about him just now. He sounds like a good man, and he makes you happy. I knew you were well fed because you weren’t so bone thin when you came home. Still thin, but not quite as much so as usual. Now that I know it was thanks to him, he most certainly should stick around,” his mother scoffs and slips off her stool to go get the kettle off the stove, as it had shortly begun whistling. 

Wonwoo watches as she pours two mugs. “I can’t do that mom. I- I don’t know what I want.”

“Well it sounds like you know what you want but you won’t admit it. You like him, Wonwoo,” his mother says, adding two tea bags to each mug. She sets one in front of Wonwoo and then sits back in her spot across from him. “You should act, or it may be too late. And I want to see my son happy.”

“I- I can’t.”

She tuts in disapproval. “Well, you can. You just won’t. You’re afraid.”

Wonwoo winces. So what if he is? He has reason to be. Minghao broke his heart and crushed his soul. Wonwoo doesn’t want that to happen ever again. He can’t go through with that, he can’t put himself out there like that. He can’t be vulnerable and blind and stupid again. No emotions, no strings, no feelings. 

Except here he was, worried about Mingyu being mad at him, inviting Mingyu to come to Japan with him, to make up for being a dickhead.

“Now drink your tea and try to get some sleep. You have a long day of travel ahead of you tomorrow. Head up to bed, and help yourself to the bookshelves. Try and distract your thoughts, okay?” She states, taking her mug in her hands and kissing his forehead, before heading back upstairs. Wonwoo stares at the spot she was for a few minutes, before taking the first sip of his hot tea. He heads upstairs, grabbing a random book off the shelf, and sits in bed for another hour, reading and drinking his tea, growing ever sleepy as he does so.

Wonwoo stares at the screen before him. There’s a picture of Mingyu and two women, one older, and one who looks about his age, beaming and bundled up in ski gear, grinning at the bottom of a mountain, giving a thumbs up. Mingyu went to the fucking  _ alps _ to  _ ski _ for a fucking holiday vacation. ‘ _ Another year of tradition complete!’ _ was all he had captioned it, and Wonwoo still had yet to hear an answer. 

‘ _ Wow, so cool!’ _ Wonwoo had sent, but then cringed. That sounded awful. He was an idiot. Not to mention he still hadn’t heard back about Japan. Wonwoo definitely fucked a lot of shit up. He hears a whole  _ nothing  _ from Mingyu for another twenty four hours. A whole day goes by and it has Wonwoo’s stomach twisting in knots, his mind unable to focus on the current sales approach and the one they were trying to design. So, Wonwoo goes back to the gym that night, hoping to quench the uncontrollable need he has to throw up and cry and panic when things spiral out of control. Wonwoo’s mind is on everything and anything under the sun, while he runs, and he can’t seem to pull his head out of that space. He runs until his calves burn and his lungs have his whole shoulders and chest heaving while he gulps for air. He walks, hoping to let his breathing return to a normal rate, just hoping that he can breathe again so that he can start running and stop thinking. 

The trainer checks on him, noticing his wheezing, and seeing as he’s one of the few people here at this hour, perhaps he does it out of boredom. He suggests doing some light lifting, to pair his aerobic something with anti something. Wonwoo wasn’t really listening but he takes the advice given to him, and makes his way over (of course when he’s stopped sounding like a deflating balloon everytime he breathes, and sits on the machine, adjusting the weight to 25. Wonwoo pushes his arms out, frowning at the light feeling of the weight. He ups it to 35. Better. 

Wonwoo listens to the trainer, suggesting that he do 20 reps of each machine and then cycling through them all or something. Wonwoo doesn’t care much to do any other lifting but he rolls with it, since someone else walks in and waves the trainer over. The young man runs over and smiles, and Wonwoo is pretty sure he hears him flirting. Wonwoo focuses in on counting, letting the numbers ease through his head. He’d always liked numbers. They were clear, and clean, and factual. There were no feelings or emotions attached to numbers. The result for adding certain numbers together would always result in the same number. If you had three of something, it was three. There could be no debate in numbers. 

Wonwoo counts to twenty and sets the weight back to resting position on the machine. He slips over to the next machine, reading how to do it. He counts to twenty. Twenty of the same motions, motions that as you approach the number, the more your muscles burned. Wonwoo focuses on counting, and the burn in his thighs. Before he knows it, his mind is blank, and he’s made it around the whole gym and is back on the treadmill, at a light jog, feeling as his feet carry him. 

He shuts the machine off and slips into the locker room, the same one where he and Mingyu quickly got one another off all those months ago. Wonwoo steps into the shower and sighs under the steam, his tired muscles letting out their own sighs. He washes up in a flash and dresses, grabbing his bag and his phone from it. 

_ ‘Japan sounds amazing, Wonwoo. I’d love to go.’ _

Wonwoo almost drops his phone. 

They get together to start planning the trip in February. Wonwoo is catching up on the new marketing campaign and the advertising for the upcoming product launch, and Mingyu has been working double the shifts to catch up on what he missed during his vacation. Mingyu invited Wonwoo to his guys night New Year’s Eve party, which was the usual- drinks and games, and lame parade performances, and the countdown. 

Tipsy Mingyu planted a fat kiss on Wonwoo’s lips right at midnight, and then got very handsy with Wonwoo very quickly. Mingyu drunkenly called a cab for his other drunk friends, and then dragged Wonwoo to his bedroom, where Wonwoo just tucked him into bed, with a lot of whining on Mingyu’s part about them not having sex. Mingyu asked him to stay (more like begging and clinging to Wonwoo’s skinny frame) until he agreed, and shed his clothes, and curled up with Mingyu.

“It’s two months away, Wonwoo, what are we planning to do, how much are plane tickets, or are you paying? How much should I be saving?” Mingyu asks as they sit down on his couch. Wonwoo stares at the table in front of him. He has no idea. Like, none at all. He hadn’t really been thinking when he’d even invited Mingyu on this trip, especially not since it was only a business trip for Wonwoo. 

“Well I’ll have a few meetings everyday, but other than that… I just usually look for food places and maybe shop. I’m not really sure what you’ll want to do…” Wonwoo says, voice growing quiet. Mingyu stares blankly at him. “I mean I’ll pay for whatever you want to do, so just… pick some stuff out that you’ve always wanted to do? Or see? I don’t really know.” Wonwoo feels burning shame creeping up his face. Wonwoo is the worst. The literal worst. He ghosted the fuck out of Mingyu for almost a month, and then invited him to Japan, where he had no itinerary and barely a month before they were supposed to leave.

“Alright, so if I pick the most expensive things possible?” Mingyu raises an eyebrow.

“I’d cover it. This is a trip for you, Mingyu.”

“Well, it’s a trip for work. You just invited me along.” Mingyu’s tone has the iciest chill underneath it, and Wonwoo feels it in every molecule of his body. He winces. 

“Yes, but no. I mean, it’s partially a business trip, but I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want you to come and enjoy yourself. It’s a great place, really, I just don’t know what there is to do, since when I’m there I don’t really have anyone to do things with…” Wonwoo scratches the back of his neck and stares down at the floor. 

“Alright, let me go get my laptop. I’ll look some stuff up,” Mingyu says, heading to his room, gesturing for Wonwoo to follow. Wonwoo trail after him. Mingyu grabs his laptop from his desk and flops on his bed, and pats the space next to him, inviting Wonwoo to join him. Wonwoo sits tentatively on the edge beside him. He looks around at Mingyu’s room. It’s messy in comparison to it’s usual state of tidiness. It’s still just a few articles of clothing and a slightly overfilled garbage can but- 

Are those condom wrappers? 

Wonwoo pretends not to stare at it, but he’s definitely staring at an empty box of them sticking out of the trash can, and three torn wrappers perched on top of the little pile in the wastebasket. He pretends like he doesn’t see a fourth one on the floor beside the wastebasket. Wonwoo averts his gaze, pretending like his stomach isn’t churning. Those aren’t from him. Like, he and Mingyu haven’t had sex in- weeks? Probably a month? They’ve just been so busy and everything’s been so weird and-

Mingyu is sleeping with other people.

Wonwoo feels like he’s been hit in the face. Hard. With a metal chair. 

Or maybe like he’s going to cry. Or throw up. Or all of the above. 

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” Wonwoo says quietly, before excusing himself to the other room. Wonwoo shuts the door behind him and is drawn almost immediately to the mirror, where a little note sits in the corner, some messy scrawl reading ‘thanks for the good time, call me for another’ and then a little xx and some name- Kihyun? Who the hell is that? 

Wonwoo is pretty sure he’s going to puke. He lays on the cold tile floor next to the toilet, feeling like his whole world is crashing around him. Shit, this is the same way that it felt when Minghao disappeared off the face of the earth for six months and came back by posting a series of photos of him and another man in Italy, and a glittering ring on his finger, looking at him in ways he looked at Wonwoo, and other ways that he never looked at Wonwoo-

Wonwoo sits up and lets his whole stomach turn upside down and out into the toilet bowl. His hands are shaking, and his limbs feel like fucking jelly. Shit, shit, shit, shit- Another round hits Wonwoo and he’s dry heaving at this point. Wonwoo pretends there aren’t tears streaming down his face, and he pretends not to hear Mingyu knocking on the door. 

“Wonu, are you okay?” Mingyu’s voice is gentle and warm, and wraps around Wonwoo’s brain like a hug before the stupid note flashes through his mind, and Wonwoo is heaving again, and the door opens and Mingyu’s face is there, full of concern. “Oh, god, Wonwoo…” Mingyu hurries over and sits beside him, rubbing his back. 

Wonwoo just closes his eyes and remains hunched over the toilet bowl. He’s fucking pathetic. He can’t even tell Mingyu how he feels, he ghosts him for weeks at a time, he’s emotionally traumatized, he’s trying to plan a shitty impromptu ‘I’m sorry’ trip to Japan, he can barely stand to help his best friends plan their weddings, and now he’s throwing up because a man he’s not even dating is cheating on him. Mingyu just rubs his back and mumbles soothing things to him. 

After a few minutes where Wonwoo doesn’t feel like he’s going to hurl again, he manages to croak out a feeble ‘sorry,’ and squeeze his eyes shut. 

“Don’t apologize, hon… It’s alright. Are you crying?” Mingyu asks softly and Wonwoo shakes his head even though he knows there are tear tracks streaking his cheeks and theres one rolling down his left cheek as he speaks. Mingyu stands, that soothing hand leaving Wonwoo’s back, making him go cold everywhere. Wonwoo feels it icing over his heart, feeling left behind and abandoned in every possible sense. He hears the sink running and pries an eye open, to see Mingyu approaching with a warm, wet washcloth, which he gently wipes Wonwoo’s face with, before flushing the toilet and then rummaging through the cupboards. He pulls out an unopened toothbrush pack and peels it open.

Mingyu comes back over to Wonwoo and holds his arm, half helping him and half pulling him off the ground. “Brush your teeth. Do you wanna go home?”

Wonwoo is embarrassed. Wonwoo is filled to the brim with self hatred for his stupid cowardice. But Wonwoo is selfish, and he craves Mingyu’s touch. He craves being cared for in the way that Mingyu takes care of him. He craves feeling something other than fear when someone holds him, something other than meaningless sex. No matter how bad he hurt, or how much he craved it, he knew he could never have something good. Especially not with Mingyu. 

So he shakes his head in answer to Mingyu’s question. Mingyu nods and places the toothbrush in Wonwoo’s hand, and holds the toothpaste out to him. “I’ll go get you something comfortable to wear, okay?”

Wonwoo brushes his teeth and changes into the t-shirt Mingyu hands him, and forgoes the sweatpants. Mingyu carefully guides him back to his room and lets Wonwoo get nestled under the covers, before climbing in beside him and holding him. 

“Oh, god, Wonwoo,” Jihoon sighs. Wonwoo’s got Jihoon and Soonyoung over for little finalizations on the wedding planning- it is only 9 weeks away, as Soonyoung had said- and he’s hugging his knees to his chest and telling them about his several fuck ups with Mingyu. The following morning, Mingyu had agreed that he’d pick out a few things for them to do on the trip if Wonwoo picked where they’d eat, and Wonwoo hadn’t said a word about Mingyu’s sex life. 

“I just- I don’t know, Jihoon. This- fuck, this hurts more than- I don’t know…” Wonwoo tugs at his hair. 

“More than anything Minghao ever did?” Soonyoung offers, setting a mug of tea in front of Wonwoo. Wonwoo shrugs. 

“No? Maybe? I don’t know, it was so much different… He left me at the  _ altar, _ Soon. Mingyu and I aren’t even dating and I’m selfish enough to be hurt over him not being exclusive when we’ve never talked about that…” Wonwoo says quietly. 

“Then talk to him about it. Ask him to the wedding. Seriously, Wonwoo, I know you’ve got- emotional… whatever, but. Just ask Mingyu to be your boyfriend already. He cares about you.”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “I can’t. I can’t- I can’t risk it, not- not after Minghao, and not- really not now, not that I fucked everything up with him already, and not because he- he’s with other men, I just- It’ll be just like Minghao…”

“Minghao hurt you, honey. We know. But they’re  _ polar opposites _ . Like, Mingyu couldn’t hurt a fly. And you can’t complain about him sleeping around when you haven’t slept with him in over a month and that’s supposedly what your relationship is supposed to be. You need to stop being afraid to love, Wonwoo, because you  _ want  _ to love. You even admitted it to yourself, and that’s the first step. You want love.” Jihoon chimes in.

“Not with him. I can’t with him I- shit, I don’t deserve  _ him. _ I didn’t fucking deserve Minghao either, and I had him. And he realized it, because he left me on our fucking wedding day. I can’t be with Mingyu, he deserves more than a selfish, pathetic excuse for a man like me.” Wonwoo rubs his face with his hands. “Why do I do this?”

“Wonwoo. You’re punishing yourself for hurting. You’re punishing yourself for someone else not loving you enough to leave you. You deserve a break, and you deserve someone who’s not going to abandon you. You’ve been through plenty enough, Wonwoo. Mingyu is it, he’s your break. He’s been with you for the last, what, 8 months or something now? He’s seen you have a panic attack, you guys lived like a married couple for a good three months now, he finds you hilarious, and he’s still trying when you left him high and dry for a month straight.”

“Three weeks.” Wonwoo says quietly. 

“Whatever. Jihoon’s right, Wonwoo. You need to let go. You need to let yourself love again.” 

Wonwoo lays in bed in emotional agony after that. Whatever. He was taking Mingyu to Japan, and that was it. He shouldn’t be worried about these things. Mingyu was a hookup, or a friend, nothing more. He shouldn’t be so hurt by the fact that Mingyu is seeing other people. He’s a grown man, he has needs. And Wonwoo is too emotionally constipated for feelings. 


End file.
